A day in the life of a guardsman

>Be a guardsman deployed to some backwater planet overtaken by heretics
>first mission, want to actually survive
>valkyrie drops down just as the sky turns a dark red
>hear commissar whisper 'daemons...'
>suddenly, in the middle of camp, a massive portal opens up and monstrous creatures that look like massive hounds, as well as inhuman monsters covered in horns and spikes, wielding massive swords, step out
>be one of a handful of guardsmen to not only repel these 'daemons', but successfully wipe out the heretics on the planet
>wait dutifully for the valkyrie to arrive to bring us to our next mission or possibly a medal ceremony
>instead, an inquisitor shows up on the planet, shoots the rest of us in the head

Share your stories, fellow soldiers of the imperium

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>deployed to a planet infested with orks
>spend days ruthlessly holding the line, shooting anything green that moves
>start to get good at it, enjoy murdering the filthy xenos
>the more I kill, the better I feel about killing them
>hear voices in my head whispering that I should kill my idiot comrades who nearly broke the line against the last wave of greenskins
>commissar notices that my eyes are starting to glow red
>shoots me in the back of the head

>Deployed to a planet in the midst of an uprising by mutants
>campaign lasts months
>During this time, start getting better and better with my terrible gun
>enjoy my amasec, recaf, and tobacco rations
>as our troops start to dwindle, some companies fold in with each other
>notice there's quite a few attractive men in the other company, fuck all of them during rest hours
>start setting challenges for myself - get 3 headshots in a row, blast a mutant's extra arms off before killing them, etc
>go to sleep after fucking my third comrade in 3 sleep shifts
>wake up covered in his entrails, with his blood painted in beautiful designs on the wall of my tent
>Shot in the head by commissar for heresy

>Deployed to a planet undergoing a Dark Eldar raid.
>Good luck ever hitting the bastards, and pray to the god emperor that you dont get caught.
>Get the sniffles, but push on
>Get shot with one of those fucking splinter rifles
>It's like every inch of your fucking body is covered in splinters, inside and out.
>Get put into the med tent, but sniffles turns into wracking cough
>Medicine does nothing
>However, a voice whispers in my head that it can take away the pain. I of course agree
>Next day, im totally fine. Walk out on my own two legs.
>Im a bit smelly, but who cares?
>DE weapons dont hurt anymore
>I can litterally tank a whole salvo of splinter shots now and not feel a dam thing.
>Commissar notices my rotting flesh, and lack of hygiene
>Shoots me in the back of head
>Turn around, shoot him back.

>Be serving on barren wasteland planet, fending off the orks alongside local militia
>Running low on ammunition and explosives, but holding the line nonetheless
>Supply drop finally comes in
>praisetheemperor.jpg
>We open the crates
>It's all fucking bayonets
>Every single crate, full of bayonets
>Suddenly hear word of a new ork offensive from the east
>ohshit.png
>Little ammo, no grenades, but a whole lot of bayonets
>Cobble together makeshift cannons that fire the bayonets
>We somehow manage to survive the ork onslaught using what little ammo we had left and the bayonets
>hellyeah.tif
>Die anyways of dehydration because the administratus couldn't get us enough water, instead sending us ingots of lead
>Such is life

> Join the guard
> On the ship to wherever we are fighting, the medicae discover that I have spikerot. something that will cause me to have a slow, painful, death in a few years.
> Talk to guardsmen from other regiment on the ship. Learn how long I'm likely to live. No longer worried about spikerot.
> Learn about our deployment. We are going to be purging some random xenos so the Imperium can settle their homeworld.
> Xenos aren't going to be much of a threat.
> Start volunteering for suicide missions so I'll die honourably before the spikerot gets me.
> Sometimes I reach the targets location to find it not there.
> Sometimes it's already blown up because the xenos pissed off the machine spirits.
> One time Space Marines showed up, blew up the target and then gave me a ride back to base.
> Never get shot at by the xenos.
> Despite my best efforts, I get the credit, and a medal, for succeeding on every suicide mission.
> Xenos are pushed back to their last fortress
> Spikerot pains starting
> Volunteer to be in the first wave assaulting the fortress.
> Command refuses because my 'successes' make me too valuable.
> Medicae can't do anything about the pain
> Commissar refuses to shoot me.

> be drafted into the Gard
> be sent off-world to reinforce a world against tau menace.
> Hit and run warefare in the jungle. Those xenos use drones and stealth tactics.
> After losing half the squad, we are paired with a regiment from Catachan
> those guys know how to make shit done. learn a few trick or two about trapmaking.
> suddenly, we lose contact with high command.
> the xenos send us a message to ally our forces against a greater menace.
> Obviously fake. Call it, I shit you not, a "tee ran'id".
> Local general thinks they want to buy time to get reinforcement. Rally the army to march on their main base snice they,re in a posision of weakness.
> We charge behind the tank
> The xenos retreat.
> In fact, they abandon the planet but not without destroying the main spaceport.
> We ended saving this planet against the xeno
>we are truly are blessed by the God-Emperor

>voluntold to join the Guard
>voluntold by my mate to try and nab the Commisar's cap
>voluntold I would be serving in a penal legion
>voluntold to board the dropship
>ship shakes so hard on entry I smack my jaw on the safety bar
>think it's broken
>crash land
>feel my spine dislocate
>voluntold to exit first
>it's hot
>it's a muggy forest
>there's bugs and shit everywhere
>it reeks
>general shape of a city in front of me
>man next to me immediately catches a round and his chest pops like a balloon
>voluntold to move forwards
>run
>thank the emperor I'm running forwards
>keep running
>bullets, tracers, explosions on every side of me
>keep running
>reach a wall
>crouch
>pray
>realize I dropped my rifle in the dirt behind me
>Commissar catches up to me
>hands me my dropped rifle
>shoots me in the head for my carelessness

>Deployed to the front of some backwater
>Tau have landed a beachhead and are pushing hard
>Draw straws for who gets the Special Weapon
>Get assigned Plasma Gun
>Last three troopers to carry it died when it malfunctioned and vented out the fuel cell
>Load up in the Chimera
>Reach Firebase
>Listen to Commissar and Platoon Commander bellow about duty and orders
>Commissar is actually a frontline veteran
>Two executions for cowardice
>One for court marshaling
>Lieutenant is reasonably competent
>Doesn't leave men behind
>Techpriests bless our lasguns
>Reaches me
>Checks Plasma Gun
>[Screams In Binary]
>Repairs faulty coils due to whoever first had it fucking up the fuel cells on a reload
>Suddenly not so unhappy about having Plasma Gun
>Rest at post in trench for few hours rest
>Roused to take watch
>Uneventful night
>Commissar walks our trench with Lieutenant
>Carefully nod in acknowledgement
>Always wary of snipers

>join the guard
>deployed in a big-ass hive
>kick down doors, toss grenades inside and shoot the shit out of renegades, mutants and other fucks, hell yeah
>this one time the door refuses to come down after a good kick
>blast it off, turns out it was covered with some super sticky reddish-green goo on the inside, like superglue on steroids
>no one inside
>proceed further, blasting off doors, slicing pies and occasionally scrubbing goo off our armor
>still no one in sight
>finally, reach a room covered in the goo floor to ceiling
>enter
>suddenly, a shriek
>fucking monsters made of teeth and claws swarm from every fucking hole, I shit you not
>behind us appears an especially large thing, with even more claws, out of fucking thin air
>drop some grenades and leg it
>scream sitrep mixed with obscenities over the vox
>grenades go off, the stream of bloody bastards behind me does not thin
>the guys back near the level entrance quickly deploy a heavy bolter and an autocannon
>they start mowing the things down, accidentally hitting one of ours but he was already swarmed beyond saving
>after like an hour of non-stop shooting the stream finally ends
>grab flamers and every explosive we can get and fucking burn the things out, room by room, level by level, all the way down to the fucking surface
>takes whole three days
>lose nearly half of our men
>get chewed, stabbed, sprayed with acid, shot with whatever green shit they spit on us
>almost lose some limbs, but the medic patches me up quickly
>finally, the last bloody piece of shit is dead
>the commander orders to seal off that part of the hive, fill it with flammable gas and ignite it
>the stuff burns for two weeks straight
>celebrate success
>get super wasted, show my fresh battle scars to chicks, get ready to get my junk dipped with two hotties
>the navy arrives and exterminates the planet
>fuck my life

>Be Gue'vesa'la (Human auxilary in the Tau Empire)
>Going to launch an attack to secure an ork stronghold.
>Gue'vesa'ui leads the squad while XV22 Battlesuits and Barracuda Strike Bombers give supporting fire.
>Take the stronghold with minimal losses
>Only one dead Gue'vesa'la in our squad
>Eventually war is over, go home to my family on the home planet
>Live a quiet, comfortable life since humans in the Tau Empire are mostly left alone on their planets and the Gue'vesa are only called on in extreme crisises.
>Laugh at the Imperial Guard dying in the millions

>Commissar is wearing a pull over fatigue coat to cover his laurels
>Common helmet
>Zone has been hot, really not taking chances with the snipers
>"Guardsman, why is your weapon not at the ready?"
"Garrett is getting his round of sleep. I've got his Lasgun sir. I didn't want the glow of the Plasma Gun to give us away."
>"Common sense. A rare trait. Carry on."
>Potentially score points with command
>Keep watch with binocs as the sun rises
>Notice weird shapes
>Wake up trenchmates
>Second looks and opinions
>Warm up coils on plasma because bad feeling
>Crunching noises
>Smell of ozone
>Bring Plasma Gun up over the edge of the trench and fire
>Splash a shimmering form
>Someone else calls out "STEALTHSUITS!"
>Fire shots into the air
>Lasguns flare off hundreds of bolts
>Catch a few lucky hits and boil the foul xenos in their armor
>Pulse munitions fly overhead
>Ground shakes as railgun ordnance hits the trenches and surrounding bunkers
>Barely hear anything over the sound of impacting artillery strikes
>See flicker
>Go to ground
>Railgun round skims the ground in front of the trench
>Smashes into the rear
>Knocked out from shockwave

>Wake up sometime later
>Nothing happening
>Blurry vision
>Feel warm and wet
>Laying in blood
>Check for wounds
>Lucky to be unscathed
>Squad not so lucky
>Crunching noises
>Thruster sounds
>Lay still
>Tau battlesuits jump over the trenches while others march forward over them
>Pray to the Emperor for salvation
>Not noticed
>Hear eloquent High Gothic, but not human voice
>Wait for clear moment to move
>Crawl to edge of trench
>Surviving Guardsmen on their knees in front of two battlesuits and one of those Ethereals
>Feel sick and full of rage as they remove their helmets
>They surrender
>Go with the Tau
>Slide back into trench
>Find Plasma Gun
>Looks intact
>Take a Laspistol and Chainsword off dead sergeant
>Scavenge some grenades and a melta bomb
>Try to sneak away
>Find a spot to hide
>Take cover among the dead and supplies
>Restless night, but stay safe

>Wake up after 2 hours of rest
>Morning patrol before crack of dawn, find units killed at night by Xenos infiltrators
>Dig trenches to further secure camp, lay razor wire and land mines
>Get told to go on suicide attack
>Excitement escalates
>Join in attack, unfortunately manage to survive, but did my duty to the Emperor
>Report back to go over how we can do it better tomorrow
>Go to sleep
>Repeat every day

>Join the guard
>Deployed fuck knows where
>A lot of eldar
>Commands starts a big offensive
>Load up in a Chimera with my mates and set out
>Get stuck in a swamp
>When we pull the bloody thing out, the rest of our forces are already way ahead
>Speed up to catch up with them
>Reach a huge battlefield
>Corpses and vehicle carcasses everywhere
>Some shots and blasts in the distance
>Looks like we're winning and pushing the knife-ears back
>Yay guard
>Notice a stray gravtank moving in our direction
>Must have made it through our lines to attack from the rear
>Not on my fucking watch
>Nick it with our Chimera's lascannon
>It crashes
>Get out to check on it
>One of them pointy eared bastards got out
>Pin the shitbag down with lasgun fire
>Squadmate shouts at the xeno to drop its weapon
>It surrenders and removes the helmet
>It's a xeno girlie

The rest is history.

>on a planet, fighting against some entrenched heretics
>very little food, bare minimum of laspistol rounds
>commander is an incompetent fuck
>on third week, start having thoughts about how much better I would do in charge
>fourth week, my company sergeant takes a bolter round to the head, I take his plasma gun and keep up the fight
>start getting more accolades
>realize I'm in the perfect position to take charge if only my commander was dead
>sixth week, have my plan perfectly laid out
>as a wave of heretics approaches our encampment, I suddenly shoot several of the soldiers standing in the way of the 'heretics' and the commander
>this gives the other forces a chance to easily take out the commander
>sprout a third arm as I grab the commander's carapace armor
>grin as all around me, the smarter forces pick off my former comrades one by one
>come to realize I've been given a blessing by Lord Tzeentch
>accept the markings of Chaos
>before we can successfully open a daemonic portal to bring forth some chaos space marines or daemons, a fresh wave of guardsmen arrive
>Take a shot to the sternum, only survive because lord tzeentch granted me a thickened ribcage
>fire back, blow off the commissar's head
>justasplanned.png
>celebrating my victory as a portal begins to open
>before the first screamers can step out, the air shimmers with golden light
>get teleported into the warp before the exterminatus wipes out the planet
>cackle in glee that I've served lord Tzeentch well
>a bloodletter eats me

>laspistol rounds

>sent to some backwater planet to serve
>it's dull, but hey, I get to survive
>one morning, suddenly hear that we're under attack
>it's the filthy eldar in black ships
>heard tales that sometimes, the xenos are willing to parlay
>know I'm going to die anyway, surrender to them
>the eldar simply cackle, and take me prisoner
>they inject me with a drug that feels like fire through my body
>by the time they finish taking scores more of my brethren prisoner, I'm in the most intense pain I've ever felt
>the eldar torturing me begin to glow as they hear my screams
>time loses all meaning as I'm constantly introduced to new pains, either whips until my skin is flayed, slowly having each bone in my body broken one by one, rods shoved under all my fingernails, and constant new drugs
>pray to the God Emperor to save me or at least kill me
>what must be decades later
>I've long since lost hope, as each day I'm tortured anew in a world called 'commorragh'
>suddenly, the door bursts open
>a giant figure in gleaming, golden armor and a flaming sword begins effortlessly cutting through the eldar forces
>By the emperor, it's the emperor!
>renewed with hope as the eldar are cut through like butter
>the God Emperor himself had awoken and come to save me personally
>tears are running from my scarred eyes as he approaches me
>"Your cries have been heard, guardsman."
>I'm beside myself with joy
>"And they are delicious."
>He suddenly grins at me
>stabs his flaming sword through my chest
>I was hallucinating the whole thing
>the goddamn eldar were torturing my mind now
never trust a knife-ear.

>Get deployed on garrison duty to a Hive World
>Have a pretty good time, despite shitty air
>Some weird Cult of the Emperor on the planet. One of those strange sects that give him multiple body parts to represent his power or some shit
>whatever.jpg
>Bunch of the guys in the Regiment start joining
>Commisar starts getting suspicious, tells us to keep an eye out
>One day, suddenly tells us everything is fine and nothing is wrong
>A few years later, our planet is cut off from the Astronomicon, and the regiment psykers start screaming about some dragon
>Almost immediately afterwards, worker riots break out all over the planet
>Get sent with the regiment to suppress them
>We get out of the Chimera, when one of my squad mates hits me over the back of my head
>I wake up in some part of the underhive. Walls are covered in weird goo, which is holding me down
>See a Xenos hunched over another person stuck to the wall, sticking its long tongue down his throat
>And I'm next
Please send help.

>Be Gue'vesa'la
>Be fighting foolish Guardsmen during Imperial offensive
>Pulse Rifle glows hot as it mows down wave after wave of imperial chaff
>Try to convince few surviving prisoners of perks of being Gue'vesa'la
>Succeed with a few
>feelsgood.jpg
>Brief moment of worry when we get hit by imperial armored brigade
>Survive, single-handedly destroy 3 tanks and save platoon
>Credited as hero, given honor blade (unheard of for Gue'vesa'la)
>feelsgreat.jpg
>War going so bad for imperials they retreat
>So embarrassed they make up some ridiculous excuse about a fleet of insects invading
>kek'd

>Crawl from position at dark
>Forward base in ruins
>Tau moved on
>Scavenge for equipment
>Find a vox
>It works
>Contact anyone
>Unit has fallen back to a tertiary landing zone
>Forty klicks south east
>There's a Salamander that still runs
>Hope there's enough promethium in the tanks
>Roll out of the ruined FOB
>Cruising along
>Make good pace
>Vox occasionally flickers
>Weird crossed transmissions
>Start catching odd xenos bits here and there
>Something something gue'la
>Worthless xenos filth can't even say humans right
>Pedal to the floor
>Duty doesn't end cause someone thinks you're dead

>Two klicks shy of the LZ
>Engine sputters
>Out of fuel
>Curse the machine spirit for being a thirsty bitch
>Hear sound of battle in the distance
>Grab gear, start marching
>Come up on the rear flanks of the Tau artillery lines
>Broadsides lobbing ordnance into the landing pad
>See the whispy Ethereal talking with other Tau
>Offer one final prayer to the Emperor
>Sneak as close as possible
>Laspistol in one hand
>Frag grenade in the other
"Stop right there, xenos scum!"
>Honor Guard battlesuits spin up their Burst Cannons
>Phalanx to protect the Ethereal
>"Gue'la, put that down. There is no need for this."
>Keep aim, even though there's little point.
>"You face such poor life with your Imperium. The send you to die for your Emperor. Why not join us and live for the Greater Good?"
>Footsteps approach
>Wounded Guardsmen with Tau bandages
>Barely a day and already the Aquila had been removed from their helmet
>Crudely painted Tau symbols were on their shoulder plates
>"Your comrades have joined us already. They know what can be if we work for the Greater Good. See how readily we accept those willing to cooperate?"
>Lower the laspistol
>Burst Cannons spin down, but remain up.
>Ethereal steps from between them and approaches.
>"Good. Now drop it."
>Pistol hits the ground
>Guardsmen look relieved.
>Ethereal reaches out to touch your shoulder
>Grab Ethereal
>Choke hold with grenade in hand
>Pull pin, hold lever
>Guardsmen no longer look relieved
>Burst Cannons spin up again, but hesitate
>"You are a fool, gue'la! You could have had such a better life in service to the Greater Good!"
>Tighten grip
>Crunching sounds
>The artillery has stopped
>Broadsides are standing behind you
>Throw frag into the air
>Duck back between the battlesuits with your hostage
>Tumble down the hill
>Come to rest on top of Ethereal
>Frag explosion disoriented the battlesuits
>But they're coming
>Hope Plasma Gun still works

>facing down waves of nids
>Lasgun pack runs out of power
>have no packs on me
>run back to grab a fresh pack
>Commisar thinks I'm retreating and shoots me in the back of the head

>Get deployed to fight some nids
>Get shot by some thorn cannon thing
>While the upper half of my torso flies through the air I see my shitty comrad also getting blasted apart
>Die upon impact

Is this supposed to be funny?

Do you know what 40k is? This is considered light-hearted.

Even the imperium is better than xeno communists

>the rest is history
I hope you don't mean "the rest is heresy" brother?

>Pull trigger
>Plasma flares up and erupts out the end
>Blast off a Broadside's head
>Burst Cannons spit a rain of shots around you but not at you
>Grab your hostage
>Drag the Ethereal with you as you retreat toward the LZ
>Bombardments have slowed to a halt
>Must be telling each other what's happening
>Battlesuits fly overhead
>Getting surrounded
>Prime Meltabomb
>Hold with Ethereal
>Staring down dozens of Broadsides, Riptides, and Crisis battlesuits
>Suddenly, huge lasbolts strafe the battlesuits
>Vendetta gunships let loose shots
>Valkyries follow with a volley of missiles
>Battlesuits strain to turn and engage
>Swing Meltabomb up and magnetize it to a Riptide's hips
>Dive for cover
>Meltabomb blows the Riptide in half
>Splash plasma fire across the back of a Broadside
>Cover the Ethereal as the Tau are broken and panicked
>Miraculously unscathed
>Tau fight to the end to try and reclaim the Ethereal
>Valkyrie lands
>Lieutenant and Commissar disembark
>"Guardsman? We thought you dead in the trenches."
"The Emperor seems to have other plans for me, Sir."
>"It would seem so. I see you've not come back from the grave empty handed."
>Hoist the Ethereal up, despite its struggling.
>Stormtroopers escort the Ethereal to another Valkyrie.
"There's something else you should see, Sir."
>Gesture up the ridge.
>The Commissar and Lieutenant move up to the Tau's former emplacement.
>Some Fire Warriors had surrendered.
>The dozen some odd wounded Guardsmen stood with them, held at gunpoint.
>"More prisoners..."
>The Commissar stepped around the Fire Warriors to examine the traitors.
>"And more corpses."
>The wounded Guardsmen fell to their knees, begging for mercy.
>The Commissar raised his bolt pistol and fired with ruthless efficiency, pausing only to when his magazine ran dry.
>Three remained.
>"Lieutenant?"
>"Yes, Commissar."
>"Let the Mechanicus have these. I'm sure they need more servitors."

Keep going user, I'm having this auto-update cause I love this.
Great job!

>As if on queue, a Valkyrie with Mechanicus heraldry landed.
>A small squad of Skitarii with an Engineseer stepped out.
>The traitors begged for mercy, death, forgiveness.
>"Fear not, traitors. Your deaths would be wasteful. Now can you serve the Greater Good. For the Emperor, of course."
>The traitors were silenced by a number of shock mauls, then dragged away.
>"Guardsman!"
>You snap to attention.
>"You are to be commended for your actions. Only you and the Emperor know how you achieved such a feat, but for now, you've assisted greatly in securing this sector. The Tau will likely yield for a prisoner exchange."
"We're going to negotiate with these xenos?"
>"Are you questioning your superior?"
"Never, Sir. I misunderstood."
>"Of course you did. Get to the Medicae. You've earned a rest with your medal."
>The Lieutenant and Commissar offered you a salute, and a handshake.
>Flanked by some veterans, you were ferried to the landing pad and brought to the Medicae facility.
>You had suffered some internal bleeding and damage to your liver, no doubt from shockwave trauma.
>You get put under by a Biologis Adept for some rather invasive Medicae procedures.

Wait the direction is now scaring me.
This does not look like its about to head in a good direction.

keep Going

don't stop

>You awaken some time later with some rather painful new scars and stitches.
>A Hospitalier soon comes to your bedside.
>"Don't move. You'll tear your stitches."
>Her hand reaches up to toggle the motion alarm from your monitor.
>Her skin is a soft shade of bronze.
>Her white hair sways in front of her radiant emerald eyes.
>The heraldry of the Sororitas is visible on her shoulder plates and armor, along with her richly embroidered tabard.
>Your muscles twitch reactively as she pulls off the sheet and touches your wound.
>"For such a brave Guardsman you're rather jumpy."
>Her fingers carefully peel the dressing away to examine the area.
>"Butchers..."
>She comments under her breath, bringing a stool over.
>"Can you recite the Litany of Accuracy from memory?"
>You pause.
"Grant me the sight of the eagle, the calm of the bree-EEE-"
>You hiss in pain as you feel the sting and burn of the needle.
>"No stopping, hero."
"...the patience of a saint-Nnn!"
>More probing and prodding of the tender area.
>"Keep going. You're almost there."
"...and the skill to smite the foe from afar."
>By the time you're done, the area is rather numb.
>"Good boy. Now that you're numbed up, I'll see if I can't clean up what damage the Mechanicus did..."
>You can only feel mild pressure as she works, and see only some parts.
>It seems like she is restitching your wound while quietly humming hymnals.
>After she finished, she applied some balm to the area.
>"Don't go trying more heroics like that for at least a week."
>You relax in the bed, only to feel a rush of warmth enter your arm.
>She injects something into the IV line and sleep soon claims you.
>"Sweet dreams, hero."

Oh no.
Guardsmen.....
Did you live?

I see right through you

also is our hero dead?

>You awaken with a groan as something cold hits your arm and travels through your body.
>"Ah, our hero returns to life once again."
>The Lieutenant and Commissar flank your bed, with the Biologis fiddling with your IV bag.
>"Your attending said you should not be disturbed but as you may know already, with the loss of most of the platoon, and then some..."
>"...You're being reassigned and promoted, Corporal."
"Thank you, Sir?"
>"How experienced are you at manning a turret?"
"I am quite capable of pointing a very large gun at something and pulling a trigger, Sir."
>"Wonderful. It won't be a glorious clandestine combat operation, but at least you'll be useful while you recover."
>You were briefed.
>Removal from the standard rank and file and placed into one of the teams of veterans who normally operate independent from a majority of the platoon.
>As a Chimera gunner.
>"Make good of these next two days of rest. We've had the Biologis spike your drip to accelerate healing a bit."
>Your superiors offer you another handshake and depart, leaving a small file folder on your side table.
>The Biologis follows soon after.

CONTINUE

Someone better be recording this. This shit's too good.

How accurate is this? I'm very new to 40k but surely if warp travel is this dangerous, nobody could really do anything like move armies around etc.

It's an exaggeration.
t. astropath

It's not true at all

Stop falling for heresy, Guardsman. His Guiding Light steers the faithful unerringly.

If every ship lost 8/10th of their crew every time they warp jumped they'd literally never be able to travel anywhere

I'll continue once I get home.

>tfw dereliction of duty

>Sitting on some backwater planet that doesn't have much going on
>Just guarding some hotshot comm station that somehow hasn't been instantly blown up
>Look up
>Huh there are apparently a lot of imperial ships in the sky, are we evacuating the planet?
>Suddenly huge searing light so bright that I don't even get time to hit the ground
>Entire planet blows up
>All because they found some heresy in one of the cities I've never even seen

>Curse the machine spirit for being a thirsty bitch

Best fucking thing I've heard all day.

I'll go over the major points:
>Inner working on particularly large, old, and poorly maintained ships can lose touch with the outside world, but its more like an insular small rural town than a complete disconnect. In some cases jobs are inherited and not understood by the ones performing them. Press ganging naval recruits is not unheard of, but most do receive a salary.

>The warp is dangerous, but also needed for fast travel and powering psychic abilities. It is full of demons and such, but interstellar travel is common enough in the imperium to be one of the few technologies that is more or less reliable. Void shields flickering isn't guaranteed to go full Event Horizon, but it might get a crewman possessed, so stay on your toes.

>Time dilation is rare and tends to be mild to moderate in severity. Mis-aimed jumps are also rare, and easily corrected when they do happen. Barring a major problem, crew mortality purely due to traveling through the warp is almost unheard of and when it does happen, consists of one or two crew members going missing inexplicably, not 8/10 of the crew dying. When problems happen, they are usually due to battle damage or poor maintenance.


TL;DR: Warp travel is less "driving through an active volcano" dangerous and more "driving through a bad neighborhood in Detroit" dangerous. It's not SAFE but so long as you don't break down or call attention you should be ok.

>Get shot in the head
>Post on tg
I'm not sure that commissar was wrong.

>Embark on Valkyrie, prepare for planetary drop.
>Macro Cannon from renegade vessel penetrates landing bay defenses
>Valkyrie explodes

>Captured by Orks
>Used by Nob as 'Lucky 'Umie'
>Escape to Imperial lines, Orks follow and massacre everyone.
>New planet, new plan of escape.
>It works. I think
>Tau on this world.
>Talk it that snake speak of theirs.
>Suddenly Orks Kommandos.
>Realize Orks deliberately let me go so I can lead them to a target

Best

>Two days pass
>You're not sure how it passes as quickly as it does
>You're roused by another odd sensation travelling through your arm
>This time, it's the Hospitalier
>"I hope you've had a nice nap, hero."
"Why do you call me a hero, Sister?"
>"I call all Guardsmen heroes. You fight for those who can't, and you serve the Emperor dutifully."
>She helps you upright and out of bed
>Your wound doesn't hurt anymore
>In fact, it's nearly fully healed up
>"This is going to feel odd but I need to remove those stitches."
>She isn't wrong
>Snipping each little thread, tweezers then tug them clear of your flesh
>I'm not going to realistically describe how it feels to get stitches out. It's fucking weird and that's all I can say.
>She seems satisfied with your healing progress and helps you dress, moving with your body
>Some light physical therapy to get you limber after being inert for so long
>She hands you your armor
>Not only is it also relatively new, it's carapace.
>Not as striking as a Stormtrooper, but being in medium armor feels a lot more secure.
>"If you get injured, feel free to come back, hero. I'll be waiting."
>Like a dutiful soldier not interested in heretical thoughts of slamming your nurse into the gurney, you give her a proper Aquila salute.
>It's only now you realize she's as tall as you are.
>You leave the Medicae facility and report to the command bunker.
>The Commissar and Lieutenant are waiting.
>"Ah, good. Sergeant Voldune, this is your new turret gunner. Corporal, your new Sergeant."
>A stocky man with half a head on you looks at you with teal irises that seem to glow.
>Two scars on his face, with a bionic left arm.
>He reaches out with his right and gives you a firm shake.
>"I hear you're also confident with plasma. That's good. We'll have use for you on foot, too."
>You quietly make a note to try and find a Tech Priest to check whatever potential death traps they might be trying to shove into your hands.

Please
More

>be guardsman on some backwater in an unimportant front of the crusade
>be trying to bring the glorious light of Him-On-Terra to these savages
>Rogue Trader that was ferrying us around fucks off
>no orbital support
>no air support
>it takes 5 Russes to take out a single enemy tank
>choke gas, whitefyre, and hallucinogens every time we make contact with the enemy
Oh well. I heard that some tank company got BTFO trying to break into a bank vault so they could use the money to hire interpreters since nobody on this damned planet speaks even low gothic.

Someone for the love of god cap this

>I call all Guardsmen heroes. You fight for those who can't, and you serve the Emperor dutifully.

Perfect

>At least the Chimera turret is remote
>You tuck in the seat and familiarize yourself with the controls as an Enginseer instructs you in proper care of the turret's machine spirit
>You also drop subtle hints that the spirit of your plasma gun has been fickle, and requires soothing from a proper disciple
>Censored for tech heresy
>You're now part of an Emperor's Blade Assault Company.
>It's covering the patrol routes for the large landing zone.
>Vox chatter has been sparse and there has been talk of diplomacy.
>Lots of jokes and jeers are flying around the transport cabin as your fellow veterans take to hazing you.
>They try and pin the nickname of 'Sleepy' on you due to your several days of near-coma snoozing.
>Fuckers.
>At least your first patrol is rather uneventful.
>Auspex readings detect odd signatures here and there, but nothing when you investigate.
>The thought of stealthsuits comes to mind.
>Curiosity gets the better of you and you shift to the gunner's hatch.
>The Chimera slows to combat speed as you look around.
>Open ground.
>No shimmers.
>Eerily quiet.
>SUDDENLY!
>"Shut the hatch, Sleepy! You're letting the cool air out!"
>Dicks.
>Not even a hint of a Tau trying to sneak around.
>Probably for the best.
>You slink back inside and shut the hatch.
>Back in the turret gunner's seat, you return to scanning the area with the auspex and swing the turret around.
>Patrol duty is boring, but at least you're not stressing your wound that doesn't seem to exist anymore.

>Get deployed
>15 minutes out, I get shot in the arm
>Crawl to safety
>Tear off the sleeve and tie it off to stop bleeding
>Crawl back when I hear everything go quiet
>Get picked up by fellow Guardsman
>Medic takes a look at me, says that my arm's gonna be fine, no amputation needed
>Commisar says that I was a coward for crawling away, and that I'm gonna be put in a penal battalion
>Get put in a penal battalion with a cast on my arm

>grimderp guardsmen wasting resources and being executed for no reason
I'll pass thank you

I hope you're not planning on just stopping there.
That'd be some grade-A heresy.

>Pausing here for now.

Just keep the thread active until morning. I'm tired and need some rest.

Commisar is never wrong, heretic!

this is fucking glorious.

Bump

Ill sum up this thread, except the one cool story.

>Be Guardsman
>Die

What's this? An amazing, well-written greentext series woefully underpopulated by bees?

youtu.be/lT5Gy079OWw?t=56s

Such is life in glorious Imperium.

Did they die standing?

Yes, which in the end, is what matters.

>be in one of those special named guard units
>kill a dreadnaught and chaos space marine with a chain sword single handed
>die to some random ricochet like a month later

ALL IN A DAYS WORK

All guardsmen thread hype?

>deployed on board a battleship
>have to sleep in a Chinese hotel for two years, "food" is shapeless, almost-tasteless goo
>inbred rat-like manlets steal my stuff, get jizz all over my socks
>commissar wakes us up one day, we all stand in the hangar bay
>barely enough room to breathe the recycled air, guy in front of me farts as well
>after three hours the hangar door opens and a big blocky ship lands
>everyone who hasn't fainted is loaded on board the ship, everyone who won't wake up is given to the tech-priests
>commissar gives us a speech about how we must not show fear or look anywhere but to the front of the ranks
>okay then.jpg
>ship shakes as we take off
>ship shakes for three whole minutes before there's a sudden immense jolt
>door opens inwards, huge suck of air as the pressure equalises with the air of the ship we've crashed into
>new air smells like blood, sex, every kind of filth I could think of, and things I could never begin to describe
>commissar shouts and we all charge down the narrow hallways
>it gets dark and the corners and walls of the room are squishy and filthy, glowing slightly
>suddenly an intense roar comes around a corner, followed by evil laughter
>a guy at the back whines and the commissar tells everyone to hold their ground
>guy continues whining and the commissar shoots him, everyone's glad to have his whining stopped
>suddenly a shadow appears around the corner and we see a- [REDACTED BY ORDER OF THE INQUISITION]

>AGP

Gue'vesa=Human auxilaries
Gue'vesa'la=Private
Gue'vesa'ui=Sergeant
Gue'vesa'vre=Commander

Writefag here. Continuing.

You wot mate?

>Not liking AGP

>Nightfall
>No more trench duty for you
>Promoted to a watch tower
>Spotter for a sniper
>Quiet night
>Sounds of night time operations down below
>Nothing else to report
>Eyes get heavy
>Pour out some lukewarm recaf
>Whistling sound
>Drop cup, grab binocs
>Scan area
>Hear from camp "INCOMING!"
>THUD
>No explosion?
>A large kick up of dirt and some debris
>Turn to look
>Some weird teardrop thing
>Tau markings
>Techpriests approach with their Skitarii at the ready
>Thing opens
>Xenotech holo-vox of some sort
>One of those Ethereals standing and speaking High Gothic
>Commissar approaches with Lieutenant
>Can't quite make out details
>Some kind of negotiation
>Searchlights flare up
>Tau flyer overhead
>Hydras draw beads
>Vox: "Hold fire."
>Tau ship lands near the pod
>Crisis suits step out around an Ethereal
>Other Tau walker suits recover the pod
>Everyone pointing guns at everyone
>Mexicanicus standoff

>Mexicanicus standoff

My sides broke light speed and entered the warp, only to be lost forever over its vistas of insanity.

suddenly a shadow appears around the corner and we see a- [REDACTED BY ORDER OF

>Mexicanicus standoff

Love it

>More quiet speaking
>Eventually the captive Tau were escorted out
>The Tau were allowed to the craft to leave
>Slide down ladder
>Move toward the commanders
"Sir, may I ask what that was about?"
>"That was called securing our interests."
>"Though the foul xenos deserve no such mercy, their expansions have been strained too far."
>"A naive attempt to besiege worlds of the Imperium without expecting brutal retribution."
"But we just... Let them go?"
>"Your duty is not to think or question, Corporal. Only to act."
"Of course, Sir! Forgive me."
>"Your insubordination will be overlooked, for now. Any other questions?"
"No, Sir."
>"Carry on. At your post."
>Return to watch tower
>Night passes quietly.
>Next morning is a buzz of activity.
>Reports from vox channels about the Tau force vacating the system
>A small fleet when counts came back
>Other regiments were called down for a new garrison PDF.
>Seems to be a reshuffling.
>The regiment is returning to the fleets for another deployment.
Sorta bored talking about the Tau, sorry if it's a cop out. There's more interesting battles to fight.

>Warp travel always gets your belly roiling.
>Thankfully it passed rather quickly.
>More reshuffling of regiments and soldiers.
>Planetfall was just ahead of an oncoming WAAAGH!
>Greenskins were chewing up worlds under the leadership of not one, but two rival warbosses.
>Warboss Granddakka and Warboss Bigdakka.
>Apparently they were fighting over who could bring the most dakka.
>Two stompas had been sighted with looted vehicles smashed on at every angle.
>Baneblade roller skates
>Vindicator fists
>Basilisk pauldrons
>There were countless lighter arms all over the monstrosities.
>There was certainly a lot of dakka.
>And you were being told now about how, along side Tempestors, your assault company was going to ambush one of these hulking behemoths of war.

>There was certainly a lot of dakka.

NAAAAAA, DAS NUFFINK.

>The plan was laid out as a means of baiting the Orks into a series of traps.
>A few sabatoged pieces of equipment laid about in paths of open terrain laid out like firebases.
>Let them capture the booby trapped guns and hopefully blow each other up a bit as artillery rains down.
>Your task was to serve as a distraction force.
>Tempestors would drop in and infiltrate the Stompa of Bigdakka and set up a beacon.
>They would plant charges to halt the walker's locomotive abilities long enough for Deathstrikes to rain down on the Orks and their Stompa.
>Chimeras were not the transport, however.
>Rather than using your Chimeras, you'd be situated in Taurox Primes to keep up with your Hellhounds while the Scions dropped from Valkyries.
>The Taurox had a reputation for being a quick, lightly armored vehicle.
>'Lightly' translating to 'a rolling Scout Sentinel'
>You felt a small pit in your stomach.

"Restraint? Why are you so concerned with saving their lives? The whole idea is to kill the bastards. At the end of the war, if there are two americans and one russian left alive, we win."
General Thomas Power, U.S. Strategic Air Command

>Grow up in the back end of nowhere
>Join Guard because women love dem uniforms
>Hear some ridiculous rumors about distant wars
>Never gets confirmed
>Spend 60 years in the planetary garrison
>Retire as a decorated captain
>Most boring thing ever

nice one comrade

Bumping for greentext user.

I now want to make an Elites section called "Shitpunchers" that are basically marines with T8/W5 MCs with two DCCWs and heavy flamers.

They punch shit.

That's their thing.

They have those already. They're called Assault Centurions.

Love can bloom

*love can BLAM

writefriend come back

>get assigned to storm traitor fortifications
>chaos must have fucked their heads because they think trench warfare and human waves are good ideas.
>Pinpoint Manticore strikes land on the most heavily fortified positions
>Get supported by Leman Russes and carried by Chimeras into battle. Valkyrie gunship keep those traitor SoBs from keeping their heads out of their shitholes for more than a couple of seconds at most
>Air Cav cuts off the earthworks from reinforcements
>Execute the rest of the traitors at our own pace
Don't know why people don't feel like using M2 era strategy.

he must

>Be me
>Be on planet fighting chaos
>repel daemons
>do so bravely that the inquisitor is suddenly is in a good mood and we survive
>decide to write diary entry
>kriegsmen asks for critique
>It said: Today was a normal day. KG-1738 was raped by "hentai tentacles" as the guardsmen from Tokyo Prime say it. Really, it was just another day out of the ordinary
>tfw we got faced with eldritch abombinations from another abomination and artificial demigods and Gustav think's its normal!
>mfw.